


Six Seeds Of Underworld

by Mimikaze



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-22 14:22:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2510825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimikaze/pseuds/Mimikaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kore, innocent maiden. Kore, separated from her mother and friends. Kore, goddess Hades has fallen for. Kore, eventually charmed by him. Kore, savouring an infernal fruit. Persephone, after a night in his company. Now bound, for eternity.</p><p>Inspiration : bibi-chan</p>
            </blockquote>





	Six Seeds Of Underworld

**_ Six Seeds Of Underworld _ **

_**A**_ bducted. Ravished from her sweet and innocent life. Taken in a dark world, whilst she had been picking narcissus with her chaperons, on the plain of Enna, in Sicily.

Hades had seized her. Hades had carried her on his stately chariot pulled by four sooty stallions. Hades had cut her from her family and friends in order to drag her away, to his gloomy stronghold, and make her his bride, the queen of his abode. Since then, Kore had cloistered herself within her spacious chambers for weeks, without speaking to her gaoler. Standing behind the bronze doors separating them, he had striven to extract a couple of words from his golden-haired captive’s mouth. To no avail. The Unseen had tried nearly everything so as to hear his intended’s voice. Cajolery. Tenderness. Teasing. Persuasion. Unfortunately, none of his manoeuvres had succeeded; he thus had changed tactics by ceasing to bother the sylph, forsaken in her rooms.

After a month of seclusion, His Majesty’s niece finally decided to go out of her refuge. She had had enough of being locked in, all alone, without anyone to talk to, apart from obsequious servants who ensured that her whims were granted. She strangely felt the need to discuss with her guard dog; in truth, she had come to appreciate being the centre of his attention. For twenty-eight days, her uncle had stopped visiting her. When her retreat had begun, the virgin had been relieved, but after some time of solitary retreat, an unexpected pain had started growing in her heart. What a delight to have been treated with such devotion! So she quit her shelter to seek the Lord of Tartarus. The naiad walked down a long gallery of red marble, open onto an inner courtyard and joined with Corinthian columns, before coming to a halt in front of a staircase; it was lit up with candles ensconced in the wall. Her pace light, the Immortal went down each step. The last one passed, a hallway, lined on either side with pillars supporting an adorned ceiling, appeared. The prisoner moved into it and reached her destination five minutes later.

Dreading the guards flanking an impressive entrance of onyx, the divinity hesitated over continuing her quest. She however stifled her impulse when the left soldier, a muscular man with flaxen hair, addressed her, “My respects, Princess. Would you like to speak to the King of Erebus?”

“I would, Sir,” answered the maiden in a thin voice. “It is my wish.”

“Your word is my command, noble Lady.”

The athletic porter turned to his comrade, a dark brown-haired man, who looked short and square-built. Each of them blew into an ivory horn out of which came a high-pitched sound, before opening the black doors. As soon as they cleared the entrance, they escorted the captive to her guardian. Wearing an anthracite toga, he was casually seated on his obsidian throne. The sentries kneeled and tilted their heads in front of their ruler. The goddess did not mimic them, even fixing out of defiance her bistre gaze on his deep grey irises.

Pleasantly surprised by the appearance, the sovereign remained quiet for about twenty seconds, admiring the graceful curves perceived underneath her veils of cerulean gauze. A surge of lust took possession of his body and senses, but he showed almost nothing of it. He subsequently gathered his wits, tearing himself away from the vision with difficulty, and asked politely, “Dear Kore, what is the motive of your unforeseen, yet delectable visit?”

The resident of the Catacombs stared at the Host of Many for a while, without uttering the slightest word, her bearing stiff and her fists clenched. She had not expected a welcome as formal as this one, which contrasted furiously with the usual conduct of her abductor towards her. What had happened during this month of seclusion in order that the man facing her had completely changed his attitude? Unless it referred to his function. Plausible hypothesis, the reason why, relaxing slowly, the maiden requested finally, “Lord Aidoneus, would you be so kind as to grant me the favour to talk with you privately?”

“With immense delight, fair Lady. Soldiers,” ordered the Unseen after turning to his two guards, “leave the room while I confer with my guest.”

“At your command, Highness,” announced in unison the porters, before they got back on their feet with dignity and quit the place, their armours of leather and metal clashing.

Once the onyx doors were closed, the King of Erebus’ expression unwound to regain its old-world warmth. His eyes were blazing intently; they could not break away from the Immortal standing in front of him. The brother of Zeus, after a minute, managed to contain himself and rose from his throne for the purpose of reaching his magnificent intended in several long strides. His hand light and tender, he stroked her triangular face, marvelling at the softness of her skin and the perfection of her features. A grace from Nature. A gift from Heaven.

Because of the evanescent contact, Kore trembled in spite of herself, feeling sensations—a steamy heat assailing her entire being, a small contraction at the level of her lower abdomen, an unexpected pressure between her thighs—unknown until then. Thunderstruck by the irrational reaction of her body, the naiad moved back, attempting to avoid the man’s palm. He gently lowered his muscular arm, somewhat pained with the rebuff of the woman he had chosen for his bride. He did not resent her, for she had made the effort to come to him. So he put up with staying where he was, a sad smile on his lips. “How can I be of help to you, shining Princess?” asked Hades softly.

“If truth be told…” started the captive in a quavering voice, while her cheeks were blushing, “I would like to enjoy your presence anew, Lord Aidoneus.”

Too proud to apologise for her long and awful behaviour, the goddess did not grant any other concessions. Her uncle must be satisfied with it. He did not care much for it, his heart literally entranced by her words. Overjoyed beyond his expectations, the saturnine monarch bowed in front of his niece, before straightening, and took hold of her hand. As he kissed it lightly, he announced to his guest, his tones impassioned, “I would be deeply honoured, noble Lady. Do you oppose enjoying a meal in my company, tonight?”

“No, I do not. I would relish it with pleasure, Lord Aidoneus,” ended the divinity who, afterwards, turned on her heels and walked away gracefully from the throne to reach, her pace elegant, the onyx doors; they opened in a hush to let her go.

Her bearing royal, her eyes looking straight ahead, the daughter of Demeter left the area with the aim of rejoining her chambers, taking the path she had walked on before.

Once at destination, Kore undressed methodically, paying attention not to ruin her gown, given as a present by the son of Cronus a month ago. Naked, she headed for a place hidden behind ionic columns of pink marble and curtains of scarlet silk. The room housed in its centre a rectangular pond filled by a spring of hot water situated lower, underneath the splendid suite. That way, the lass dove into the pool, concentric waves appearing in her wake. She swam a short time, before going back to the surface, and moved nearer the edge she leaned finally against. The nereid relished for a couple of minutes the softness of the blue gold, which wrapped her body as a hang of surah, which stroked her figure as a veil of satin. She went subsequently out of the liquid stretch, calling, her voice faraway, a servant who came promptly, chocolate-tanned girl equipped with an orange blossom-scented soap and a white linen cloth. Whilst she was manipulating the fragrant marvel over the dripping skin, the captive shut her brown orbs in order to better enjoy her massage. She relaxed; smiled; and daydreamed.

The exquisite and regenerative interlude finished, the Immortal returned to water. The housemaid, afterwards, poured the content of a jasmine-smelling amphora upon her honeyed hair, and courteously asked her to abandon her bath. The princess complied willingly. The slave grasped the fabric she had brought with her so as to dry the virgin until the last drop of humidity had utterly vanished.

At last leaving the pool behind them, the two women nonchalantly penetrated a room adjacent to the vestibule. Stuck to three walls of garnet-ribbed grey stone, candles were casting an orange glow on the tastefully laid out furniture. Shadows were moving in every recess, giving life to an evasive show whose performers would have retained their anonymity. Long accustomed to this uncanny atmosphere, the prisoner ignored it with the aim of admiring a fabulous set of finery placed over her bed. It consisted in a fantastic collection of delicately crafted negligees, of all sorts and colours. A rainbow of iridescent tones. Rather difficult to choose amidst these gems of incomparable distinction, but one of them soon charmed her: an incarnadine apparel embroidered with gold threads at its hem, pearls of pale amber dispersed here and there upon the velvety material.

Oddly inhabited with the desire to please the Unseen—to thank him for his kindness, she thought—the naiad requested her dark-complexioned mate to make her as seductive as possible. For twenty minutes, her skilled hands worked relentlessly, shaped tirelessly. The outcome exceeded the goddess’ wildest expectations. Stunned, she did not recognise the reflection supposed to portray her, sent by the bronze mirror facing her. Highlighted by a subtle touch of carmine, whom did those voluptuous lips belong to? Shadowed with an aureate powder, what about those eyes, whose irises called a rare and precious wood to mind? And those pleasant curves, underlined by the deliciously provocative garment? Flabbergasted by the metamorphosis but sincerely enchanted with it, the virgin expressed her gratitude to the wench and abandoned her quarters in order to find her relative.

Once again, the divinity travelled along the path that had led her to the Host of Many earlier. Stopping in front of the onyx entrance for the second time, she was announced at the sound of a horn and taken by the two sentries inside the lair housing, behind its black doors, the King of the Underworld’s obsidian throne. They bowed deeply; were sent off straight away. His will nimbly accomplished, His Majesty looked at his evening partner who, he hoped, would become his queen. Bewitched by her appearance, he nonetheless stood still for an instant, while a swift wave of eros ignited his loins. Hades imagined his palms excitedly stroking her stunning figure, his mouth showering her satiny skin with devouring attentions, his phallus tasting with fervour the forbidden fruit. He went to his resident, unaware of his gestures; embraced her ardently. He bussed her then, without further notice, with all the fire of his passion. He held the flower of Sicily tighter to him, carried away by his enthusiasm.

Too astounded to make a protest, the sylph endured her abductor’s sudden demonstration of “tenderness”, without knowing what to do. Her body, however, did not take long to react quickly by pressing itself against that of the man in toga. Her arms snaked around the God of the Underground's neck. Her lips half-opened, letting his tongue penetrate. In this way, it started a frenzied ballet with the naiad’s, each trying to dominate the other, each aspiring to the victory of this minor battle. Notwithstanding, none of them succeeded in taming its kind, because the brother of Zeus abruptly contained himself, so as to release the hamadryad with reluctance and lovingly contemplate her from head to toe. Awestruck because of the heady vision, the elder nevertheless sweetened his thought—licentious, for the moment—as he said, “Sumptuous Kore, your beauty brightens this place so much so that it outshines the brilliance of the sun at its zenith. Never in my life have I come across a woman as exquisite as you. You daze all of my senses, indeed.”

“Thank—Thank you, Lord Aidoneus,” stuttered the nereid in a small voice, whilst a delicate blush was slowly suffusing her cheeks.

“You are welcome, noble Lady; my words were sincere. But I would appreciate if you ceased to address me with a ‘Lord Aidoneus’, for it is my formal title, and you eventually began to call me ‘Hades’. I would like us to know each other better. And now, what do you think of having dinner in my chambers?”

“With pleasure… Hades,” she answered, before graciously taking the arm her partner offered.

In this fashion, they left the throne room, their pace tune-up, without glancing at the motionless porters, trained to merge with their surroundings. Hereon the budding couple traversed many galleries open onto courtyards in the middle of which rose sculpted fountains; their lapping waters murmured gentle secrets. Clearly mesmerised by the enchanting sight, the maiden did not see the intense expression of the infernal ruler. He could actually not help admiring her curves, enhanced by the incarnadine negligee. How was he to resist? In what way was he to ignore this imperious attraction? However, before managing to ponder these questions, the Sovereign of Erebus gave in to his urges, suddenly pushing the virgin up against a column of granite, his fleshy lips over hers, the kiss resulting from this joining almost suffocating. One of his hands settled on the small of her back, binding her slender body to his, while the other got lost in her thick golden hair.

Surprised by the Lord of the Underground's rush anew, the princess strived to repel him with her clenched fists. In vain. Her muscled uncle appeared to have, at his disposal, a might largely superior to hers and had not noticed her efforts to move away from him. And, as if that did not suffice, her anatomy betrayed her… again. Unable to remain physically under control, the captive indeed pressed herself against her exuberant kidnapper, letting her tapered fingers ramble in his numerous black curls.

Minutes passed by, while the future lovers were clinging on to each other feverishly. Slowly, very slowly, they parted, gazing at one another for several seconds, theirs eyes filled with lust. “ _It shall be most difficult not to seek to possess my beauty,_ ” thought the Unseen. She was undoubtedly delicious.

**oOo**

**_A_ ** moment later, the King of the Catacombs and his lady stood still in front of a pair of obsidian doors. Two soldiers, one sturdy and quite tall, the other spare and slim, both covered with a uniform of tanned leather and metal, were flanking the entrance to protect it from unwelcome incursion. Upon catching sight of their master, they dropped to one knee and bowed their heads. They nonetheless straightened with swiftness: they had been ordered by Hades to clear the access to his rooms. The guards pulled the bronze handles, perfect depictions of reared and roaring cerberus, hence opening the panels. Without looking back, the couple started walking again, for the purpose of entering the Lord of the Underworld’s lair.

Just when the deities had crossed the threshold, the maiden came to a halt. The spectacle unfolding before her took her breath away. It embodied a striking contrast with the image she had made up of the Immortal who had so courteously given her his arm. Like the rest of the palace, his chambers occupied plenty of space—even more so than her own—but instead of being dark, they were lit up with a myriad of torches hung to the walls and columns of red marble. The place faced flourishing gardens, arrayed in thousands and thousands of flowers, and a pond in which was reflected a blazing sky dotted with nascent stars, all similar to diamonds. No window; only a free passage, lined with pillars, to the rainbow-coloured stretch. Wonderstruck, the divinity left her partner for an instant, to better admire the surroundings. With her slender fingers, she touched the walls, feeling on her flesh their lumps and contemplating the furniture, her eyes delighted. A certain nobility exuded from it, whereas its lines remained sober. Composed of granite tables and chairs positioned here and there, it gave an impression of warmth and intimacy. Utterly seduced, the nereid returned to her host in order to offer him her most beautiful smile.

The God of Hell almost lost his composure the moment he noticed his intended’s expression. Ravishing, dazzling, she seemed a temptation much difficult to resist, that was why he could not help but bury his hand in her golden strands. Stroking her silky curls without getting tired of it, he fixed his deep grey irises on his niece’s, before he said, his voice full of hunger, “Pretty Kore, stop looking and smiling at me in this fashion. I will not have the strength to contain myself any longer if you continue like this.”

His confession caused a lovely flush to appear. It furthermore triggered in the virgin a peculiar emotion, yet not disagreeable. If she was honest enough with herself, the daughter of Demeter had to admit she did not really desire the man in toga to control himself. Quite the reverse, she wished to taste the passion he had showed her earlier again. Emboldened by her rather daring thoughts, she pressed herself against the Unseen, wrapping her lissom arms around his waist, and felt, level with her navel, the potent ardour of his craving. The indecent contact—but oh so hoped for—made the naiad’s entire body shiver. She lifted her face to his, happy to read on his features tenderness and concupiscence blended together. Thus encouraged, and her tones a little shy, she whispered, “Please, do not contain yourself. I—I want you, Hades.”

This unexpected reply, to say the least, sent the Lord of Tartarus into transports of joy. He was so glad that he clutched the maiden passionately to him, before he buried his aquiline nose in her neck, and inhaled its sweet scent. Orange blossom and jasmine. A charming and intoxicating combination… modelled on the girl. Incapable of mastering himself, the son of Cronus placed his mouth upon her ivory nape, tracing with his tongue the delicate line of her throat, then that of her jaw. He reached the left corner of her carmine lips, which he kissed several times languorously, murmuring, “Nothing would delight me more, marvellous Kore. I promise you: tonight, you shall become a _woman_.”

Shaking with excitement at the prospect of the experience she was about to live, the Immortal grasped the hand the Host of Many held out, in order to let him guide her to an alcove concealed by bronze curtains; it overlooked the multicoloured gardens. The goddess stopped on the threshold for a while, turning around and relishing the sight, as she soaked up the various fragrances, emanation of the neighbouring plants. She subsequently walked past the transparent drapery her partner kept open, his hand distracted. Once the barrier of material was crossed, she stood still, with the intention of taking a circular look at the place. A rectangular base of red marble rose against the opposite wall; on it had been set down a mattress woven in the finest silk. Of amber hue, the fabric highlighted the warmth of the room in a subtle way, whilst it revealed a part of its owner's mysterious temperament. Some cushions roamed, besides, over the bed. Lifting her bistre gaze towards the ceiling, the resident of the Catacombs distinguished three imposing statues, each personifying a nature spirit, and a gilded veil falling in ample folds on the berth. Next to it sat a table of granite, loaded with appetising dishes, fresh fruits and a carafe whose content was unknown. “ _The whole is very appealing,_ ” thought the aristocrat with surprise

Hades smiled affectionately upon glimpsing his intended's stunned expression. She had evidently not imagined that her lover-to-be might have developed a particular taste for warm tints and beautiful objects. He did not hold it against her, however. After all, he had always presented himself dressed in dark attire and never disclosed a thing about his person. With the aim of gaining his lady's trust and inclination, the Ruler of the Underground thus decided to reveal more about himself and show patience. She fully deserved his efforts.

His senses wide awake and his heart filled with emotions, the monarch finally moved into action. He put, in this fashion, his left arm over the deity's shoulder blades, then his right one under her knees, for the purpose of lifting her, the traction powerful, and sitting down with her on the royal bed. As she tried to settle herself comfortably astride her suitor's muscular thighs, he extended his hand to grasp an orange pomegranate positioned on the stone table. With his thumb, the overlord split the tender flesh in two parts. The bowels of the fruit exhibited red seeds; red as blood. With his forefinger, the elder took one he raised to his niece’s mouth afterwards. She opened it, letting her partner insert the scarlet kernel inside her oral cavity, and closed it; his finger was now prisoner. Happy with her demonstration of spontaneity, the sovereign leaned nearer to her, suggesting in a hoarse voice, “Play with your tongue, my sweet, and suck on your hostage.”

Still dumbfounded by her audacity, Kore remained static for a moment. Taken over by excitement little by little, she consequently complied with good grace, paying neat attention to her uncle’s face. He lowered his eyelids and threw his head back. A moan of delight escaped from his throat in the middle of which bulged his Adam’s apple: evidence that His Majesty was enjoying the lavished treat completely. Glad about it, the young girl intensified the suction on her sugary prey, swallowing the aforementioned seed at the same time, as she began light comings and goings. In order to increase the sensations the brother of Demeter might be feeling, she used her incisors in such a way that they slid over his phalanxes. Her initiative had the result of kindling the ardour of her abductor. He straightened up quickly, putting the fruit back upon the neighbouring table, and grabbed her shoulders. He skilfully laid her across the mattress of silk. A bit surprised by his sudden fervour, the virgin held her breath for a couple of seconds. She had not conceived that her relative would react so promptly. After giving it some thought, his exuberance was however everything she had lusted for.

On his hands and knees above his beauty, the God of infernal Olympus had witnessed all of her qualms. At first, a little alarmed at her amazement, he had preferred not to move. Thereafter, he had realised the position they found themselves in did not embarrass the sylph overly. She even seemed to prize it greatly. Reassured on this point, he went on his sensual quest by letting her vermilion lips seduce him. The kiss was soft, tender; nearly languid. A brush; a feathery, discreet caress. The kiss grew deeper, more passionate. In this fashion, a merciless and fierce struggle started between opposed tongues. They fought; danced; competed with fervency. Carried away by a fever unlike any other, the Unseen stretched out on his other half, initiating a recursive motion with his pelvis, action designed to dull the pain of his rigid shaft. Several seconds later, his palms pulled up the length of his intended’s shapely legs, lifting the hem of her incarnadine negligee. Once the garment was over her head, Hades left the maiden’s ruby red lips, to take it off and throw it to the floor. He sat afterwards on his heels, beholding the offered vision. A pure marvel. A true splendour. Never in his life had he caught a glimpse of a woman as magnificent as she. Full hips. A thin waist. A flat stomach. Slender arms. A lissom neck. A mouth made for love. An exquisite rosiness. A skin as soft as satin. Round breasts; perfectly proportioned. The Lord of the Catacombs was so charmed by them that his hands moulded them reverently, on their own accord. His thumbs began to titillate the pink tips; they hardened. Mesmerised by the enchanting sight, the elder leaned in order to entrap one with his teeth delicately, whereas the other was the object of a delightful friction. The ruler nibbled the teat; suckled on it like a sweet. What delectation! An indescribable joy.

While the King of Erebus was relishing his seigniorial dish, going from one areola to the other without tiring of it, the divinity arched her spine, clinging to the amber bed, and groaned in a husky voice she did not recognise. Had she really produced such a sound? Obviously, yes. Averse to lingering over this singular phenomenon, she chose to surrender to the present entirely. The Host of Many appeared to possess a vast experience in the matter, because the sensations he was creating remained beyond words. To appreciate the situation better, the dryad decided to grip her abductor’s waist with her lower limbs, forcing him to cover her with his body, for the purpose of relieving a pressure that did not stop manifesting; between her thighs; inside the folds of her femininity. That way, back and forth she rubbed against her suitor’s abdomen. The gesture heightened her thirst for eroticism; increased the temperature of several degrees.

Aware of his lady’s growing eagerness, the man thought it was time to introduce her to other pleasures. He thus ceased his oral activity to straighten up, obliging his mate to let go, and remove his charcoal toga. After taking his clothes off, he exposed a muscular torso, many scars criss-crossing it, strong thighs and, finally, an imposing manhood at the top of which a whitish drop glistened; expression of a burning desire, beating in his veins at the pace of his wild heart. However, not wishing to rush things, the Lord of Tartarus seized the pomegranate he had set down before upon the table of granite, to extract two red seeds from it. He raised them to her mouth, whilst he suggested, his tones winning, “Eat them, my sweet.”

Willing—and strangely happy about it—the girl hastened to swallow the kernels, tasting their delicate flavour, as her eyes never left the son of Cronus, who put the fruit back in place. She noticed that his gaze remained fixed on her; intense, blazing, famished. As if her relative’s only want were to devour her. Prospect that enchanted the virgin more than she could say.

“Very good,” approved the brother of Demeter, halting the Immortal’s reflections. He once again leaned forward, whispering tenderly in her ear, “Do you know, my pretty Kore, that you are the most desirable woman I have ever met? I love everything in you. Absolutely everything; never forget it. And now, what about getting down to business?”

This response made the nereid shudder. Her heart, unexpectedly, skipped several beats to finally adopt a frantic pace. It pounded hard against her ribs; strongly, rapidly. The Guardian of the Styx’s speech had not left the hamadryad indifferent. Delighted with the turn of events, she was impatient to “get down to business”, as the Unseen had expressed it. As if he had read her most intimate thoughts, he started sliding along her chest, without hurrying, his fleshy lips against her fair skin, in the wake of which a wet line was appearing. He continued his inevitable descent, again and again. To the point of no return.

At destination, the God of the Underworld cautiously opened his intended’s legs, before he settled himself comfortably between them. He placed his sinistral hand upon her breasts, for a soft and enjoyable massage, as the fingers of his right hand spread her beautifully pink labia, soaked with her undoubtedly delicious nectar. Charmed by the ambient dampness, he decided to insert his middle finger inside her unexplored sanctuary, honoured to be the first—and the only one, he vowed to himself—to enter it. Immediately, the man without toga began a risqué coming and going, basking in the ease with which he was insinuating himself into her flesh, savouring the sighs escaping from the girl’s throat. She pressed her thighs; held on to the sheets; bent. She manifestly seemed to like her partner’s attentions very much. Convinced that he would commit a sacrilege if he did not satisfy her more, he carried on with his work by adding his tongue; for now, it was rather naughty. Straight, it stabbed her sacred depths mercilessly. This wanton activity captivated Hades to such a degree that he did not interrupt it for a long time.

Victim of the relentless assaults of her mate’s mouth, the naiad felt an incomparable heat rising inside of her. It was surging in successive waves without respite, embodying a pleasure she had never known before, which, second by second, was growing and intensifying. Located at the centre of her femininity, it did not wait to reach vertiginous heights, then to explode like a furious volcano. Subject to an exquisite sense of bliss, the maiden braced herself and stiffened, letting out a small—but astonished—cry of contentment. In a sweat, she fell back upon the amber bed, her body shaking with numerous post-orgasmic jolts. A bit calmer, the virgin got her breath back and met her uncle’s smouldering gaze between her limbs. He came up on his knees, moving forward to stop at shoulder height. Maintaining eye contact with her, he said to his niece, his tones marked with joy, “Gorgeous Kore, I notice you have appreciated this foreplay. I am glad to witness it.”

A happy glint in the captive’s brown orbs was his sole answer. The sovereign, however, did not need anything else to persevere in his carnal quest. With his right hand, he grasped his rigid penis to bring it closer to his lady’s vermilion lips. With his left hand, he pressed the back of her head, burying his fingers in her honeyed curls. This positioning caused a flash of apprehension to appear on her beloved face. Touched, the King of Erebus endeavoured to reassure her, his voice soothing, “Do not worry, my sweet. What I am asking of you is not supposed to be painful. Neither to you, nor to me. If you follow my instructions, everything will be all right. And now, I would like you to open your mouth to greet my tribute to your magnificence.”

Although she was comforted by His Majesty’s words, the princess did not comply immediately, staying motionless for several moments, in order to acquaint herself with the turgescence. It seemed rather impressive, as much for its width as for its length. That was why the nereid, out of the blue, wondered if she could physically welcome his manhood inside of her. The only way to know was to try, so she decided to grant her host’s wish. In this fashion, the dryad inserted the imposing phallus into her oral cavity, before she closed her generous lips around it. Subsequently, she wrapped her palm about the base of his virile member, whilst her tongue initiated a voluptuous ballet with the top; it tasted curiously salty. For a minute or two, she tried out diverse methods, careful of her partner’s reactions. She, in truth, desired to give him the same pleasure that she had previously enjoyed.

Once the blunders of the start were over, the Guardian of the Styx made the most of the girl’s intimate stroke. What a relish to be eventually able to feel _and_ watch her mouth moving up and down his erect blade. The spectacle enchanted Hades so much so that his fingers held on to his intended’s golden hair. Carried away by his growing excitation, he could not control his pelvis, which began an in and out motion, all on its own. At first, a slow, almost lazy motion, with the aim of not frightening the deity; after a short time, a steadier, faster motion. “ _What the Hell! This is infernal torture!_ ” thought the Unseen with fervour. Even though he had known the joys of the flesh early, never in his life had the son of Cronus achieved such a state of bliss. As his climax was about to come violently, the monarch took it on himself to cease the delectable activity of his waist. He would not erupt now. On the contrary, he wanted his niece to discover all the delights of carnal love with him.

As soon as his breathing had calmed down, the overlord quietly pulled his shaft out of his lady’s wet cavern and stretched his arm towards the granite table, in order to catch the split pomegranate. The King of the Underground again extracted one scarlet kernel, which he presented his sweetheart with. In a tender voice, he said, “Wonderful Kore, I beg you to eat this blood red seed, symbol of the maidenhood you will lose shortly.”

At once anxious about and happy with the experience she was going to live, the divinity opened her carmine lips to receive upon her tongue the offering of her abductor; she swallowed it gladly. Whilst she was prizing the taste of the fruit, the goddess noticed her mate’s warm gaze, seeing him go backwards, on his knees, to reach her eye-pleasing hips. When he was at destination, he gently placed his hand between her shapely thighs, so as to part them. He settled himself between them, blanketing with his muscled body the Immortal’s. Precariously propped on his left arm, the Lord of Tartarus grabbed with his right hand his swollen sex, moving it nearer to her coveted intimacy. He then penetrated it; slowly, very slowly. Until he met a resistance that was both unwelcome and desired: her hymen. The virgin could not help tensing up, shocked—in spite of herself—at the invasion she had so hoped for. Aware of her uncle’s efforts to accustom her to his presence, she tried to relax as much as possible. He did not attempt to rush her, which she was grateful to him for. A bit less nervous than before, the naiad smiled at the Host of Many, who murmured, “Cling on to my shoulders, radiant Princess, and bite me if you feel the need. My possession may hurt you. But things will get infinitely better afterwards, I promise you.”

Surprisingly glimpsing his intended’s trusting expression, the Sovereign of Erebus bussed her for several seconds, then, with a powerful thrust of his pelvis, he sank into her; up to the hilt. He got past her barrier of innocence; heaved a noisy sigh; stopped for a short instant. During the defloration, nails had dug into his shoulder blades and teeth had marked his flesh. Looking down upon his sweet agony, the ruler checked that his lady had not suffered overly. Therefore, he observed her triangular face with care, seeking any sign of discomfort. She had fortunately shed no tears; her features seemed nonetheless fixed, as if she were aching. With the aim of soothing her pain, Hades caressed his niece’s hair, as he showered her cheeks, nose, forehead and mouth with light kisses. His demonstrations of tenderness miraculously overcame her strain. Noting it, the man decided to pursue his expedition with nonchalant incursions. By Olympus! What a delight to unite with the woman he cherished above all else _at last_. She was so warm, so wet, so welcoming! A fragment of Heaven to illuminate the Underworld. With an eye to show her the depth of his happiness, the King of the Catacombs gave her his brightest grin, before he teased her neck with his skilful tongue. Charmed, he prolonged his activity for a moment still, nibbling and licking the skin adorning her dainty throat. Of their own accord, his palms scrutinised the feminine figure, memorising each vale, soaking up each hill. What endless softness!

Whereas Kore began to undulate her hips under her athletic paramour, he clutched her buttocks to speed up the pace of his so far languorous comings and goings. This way, he started riding his wife-to-be with an ardour he had long suppressed; an ardour bordering on frenzy. Carried away by the concupiscence clouding his wit, bewitched by his beloved’s budding passion, the brother of Zeus revealed the powerful fire dwelling inside of him. Like that, his lips left her delicate nape, to close around a taut nipple, sucking it up avidly, handling its twin similarly. While the sylph buried her fingers in her ravisher’s black curls, his oral treat urged her to arch into him some more.

The temperature was increasing within the alcove dangerously. Their sweaty fleshes were slamming against each other, producing an erotic, arousing sound. Soon, their sensual embrace would achieve its apotheosis.

On the verge of his orgasm, the Unseen made up his mind to slow down the tempo of his fierce penetrations, then to cease them. He consequently gave up the teat he was cajoling, in order to fix his deep grey irises on the deity’s. Much to his pleasure, he noticed her well-being and, for the first since her arrival, the early stages of love. His heart skipped a beat… to better throb anew. Thrilled with this most agreeable observation, His Majesty tenderly bussed his niece’s impish nose and, while a bit breathless from their violent frolics, he asked her, “How do you feel?”

“Marvellously well, Hades,” responded the maiden, smiling.

“Excellent,” he concluded, a content expression brightening his features.

The chthonian god gave a scorching kiss to his beauty, before freeing her intimacy. He thereafter straightened up, as his eyes looked down at his erect phallus, which was now covered with cyprine and blood. This vision filled his manly ego beyond reason. The King of Erebus was indeed more than happy to be the first to have possessed the sumptuous woman stretched out in his bed. How she offered a delicious feast for his hungry gaze! Spread out all over the pillow, her honeyed hair. Bent and apart, her lower limbs. Going up and down, her breasts, in rhythm with her jerky breathing. Mirrors of an ardent desire reflecting his own, her bistre orbs. Perfect incarnation of a chalice from which to drink and quench his thirst, her femininity. A true splendour. A grace from Nature.

Impatient to take his intended again, the Host of Many lay down next to her promptly, inciting her, with eager gestures, to turn her back to him and to lift her leg. The aristocrat followed his instructions to the letter. Once in position, the elder grasped his turgid member to guide it towards her licentious well. With an enthusiastic stroke, he penetrated his beloved, finding shelter inside of her. A moan of carnality escaped from his throat. Soon after, he placed his fingers over her pubis, before he opened her moist labia with care. There, the Lord of the Underground located her rosy pearl and treasured it to his heart’s content, whilst he was rocking his pelvis back and forth, vehemently. His concubine braced herself this very minute, groaning pleasurably, sighing happily. What sweet music to his ears. Exhilarated by the sensual sound of his thrusts, Hades moreover sped up their furious pace, sucking up the skin of his lady’s neck. He made bluish marks appear, indicators of his passion for his adored one.

Vaginal contractions suddenly rubbed off on his erection. A vibrant “Ah!” came out of the feminine mouth. The sovereign, at precisely this moment, gave up his activity to raise his head and to state that his mate had achieved her orgasm. He felt her shake against him for a short time, assaulted as she was by jolts of rapture. Aroused beyond imagination by her sight, the son of Cronus manifested more ardour in his incursions. He impaled the girl over and over, always further, always deeplier. To become one with her. _One_ …

While the heat within the alcove began to be unbearable, the Lord of the Underworld did not see his climax come. It showed itself violently, devastating everything in its wake. The monarch arched his back; as taut as a bow. The monarch screamed his pleasure; conquered by a heady euphoria. The monarch spilled his semen into his princess in jolting bursts. In a sweat and out of breath from his exertion, he collapsed on top of the amber berth, remaining motionless for several instants, before squeezing his wife-to-be against his chest. With his right hand, he caressed her breasts tenderly, as he marvelled at their softness. He sighed contentedly. A bit later, the ruler slowly freed his other half’s intimacy, turning her over in his arms, so that she faced him. He propped himself on his elbow then, in order to buss her ivory nape, and grasped the split pomegranate. He extracted two kernels anew, which he brought to her lips. Grinning, the divinity opened them to better close them around his forefinger. She sucked it up for a couple of seconds delicately, swallowing the seeds simultaneously. Enchanted, the King of Hell removed his finger from her damp cavity, putting the fruit back upon the neighbouring table, and held the goddess tighter to him. He murmured into her ear, “I thank you for the present of your virginity. It is a priceless gift I shall revere for all eternity. You must know that I love you passionately: I wish to make you my adored wife. I beg you to accept.”

Before she gave her answer, Kore watched her paramour lengthily, observing each of his features; they had become dear to her. His chiselled face expressed a genuine love, reflection of an identical sentiment growing in her heart. The Immortal admitted this truth deep inside her, _at last_. It was enough for her to take a decision. Her look radiant, she said to her host, “I accept to marry you, Hades.”

“You make me the most blessed of all the gods. I promise you will never, for an instant, regret it. I will do everything in my power to satisfy you.”

“I am convinced of that.”

The carnal experience, which the deity had just shared with her uncle, assured her that, although he could be swept away by his ardour, he was indeed a man knowing how to cherish what was precious to him. She had no doubts about his ability to make her happy. Her life with him would be rewarding, the sylph was sure of it now. More than pleased with the turn of events, she placed her head upon her future husband’s shoulder, as he held her tenderly and entwined his muscular limbs with hers, and stroked his pectorals, her hand distracted. Thinking all of a sudden about something that had previously happened, she asked, “What is the meaning of the last pomegranate seeds I have eaten?”

“Well… The first kernel symbolises your ecstasy at the end of our intimate embrace. The second one stands for our union, both from physical and spousal points of view. Does it answer your question?”

“Yes, it does, Hades. I thank you for your enlightenment.”

“You are welcome, my sweet,” concluded the aforementioned, his voice kindly, before holding out to his intended a bronze goblet filled with wine.

A toast was delivered. A name was changed. A discussion was started. A meal was shared. The lovers kept one another company throughout the night, surrendering themselves joyously to the pleasures of the flesh… Again and again, until the sun rose in the East, setting the infernal sky ablaze with its beams of fire.

**oOo**

**_T_** wo months later, a divine wedding was celebrated on Mount Olympus. Under the foliage of a venerable olive tree, a god and a goddess kissed in order to seal their union. They then turned, smiling, towards the coloured audience, so that it bore witness to their happiness. They were applauded. They were acclaimed. Persephone—formerly Kore—and Hades once again regarded each other tenderly, knowing that bliss would mark every stage of their life together.

**_The End_ **

* * *

If there are any grammatical mistakes, misspellings, conjugation or punctuation horrors, they are solely mine. English, indeed, is not my mother tongue and the translation of this story—originally written in French—is my fourth try.


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